


Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches

by DeyaAmaya



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Adoption, Child Abandonment, Domestic Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Original Character(s), Parenthood, Post-Canon, Retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 14:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17510627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeyaAmaya/pseuds/DeyaAmaya
Summary: Neil wakes up late. So does his husband and child.





	Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches

**Author's Note:**

> Another entry for the Neilmas2019. This is prompts 3+4. Personally I love sleeping in during the early morning hours and tried to incorporate that. This fic features healthy! peanut butter and jam sandwiches!

The windows in their bedroom are all covered in blackout curtains. Not even a single ray of light gets through. But it's morning, he can tell. How? Because there are fingers dancing up his spine. They tiptoe quietly, afraid of rousing him.

He stretches and lets out a pleased hum.

The fingers gather speed. They leap across the scarred plane of his back like rabbits, leaping across his spine, gliding over the shoulder blades, then venturing down-

The rabbits stumble and halt.

‘Daddy! Papa!’

The voice is choked and broken. The fingers disappear from Neil's skin. Andrew all but wrenches the door open. Neil hears Andrew's question faintly.  

‘What is it?’

Kit's answer is indistinct. Neil is sitting up and leaning on the headboard as Andrew gets back to bed, carrying Kit. His arms are wrapped tightly around Andrew's neck, hiccuping but not crying any longer.

Neil takes him from Andrew, putting him on a spare pillow. He slides down the bed to look at Kit. There's dried tear tracks on his face and he won't meet Neil's eyes.

‘Did you have a bad dream?’ Neil asks.

There's a small nod, and then Kit is curling into a ball and tearing up again.

‘I saw... I…  I…. I saw… Daddy…the shops..’

Neil lets Kit curl up against his chest. Not asking anything else. Kit's had this particular nightmare a few times before.He'd been abandoned at a supermarket by his mother. His nightmares used to feature his mother leaving him at the large building. Now it features Andrew instead of his mother. Sometimes it's Neil.

Thankfully, these nightmares are becoming scarce. Kit's been theirs for a few months, and Neil likes to think it's the effect of having a place to call home. He and Andrew aren't the affectionate type, not like Matt and Dan, or even Aaron and Katelyn. But they're trying to give the little six-year old as much care as they could. Sometimes it's not enough, and they're at a loss. But the other Foxes are always there to help them through.

It helps that they're both retired, now. Neil coaches a little league team of exy. Andrew prefers to stay home, mostly. He's the one who found Kit during a late night ice-cream run. He hadn't thought twice before calling the police. That was a year and a half ago. After a long, drawn out process, they were able to adopt Kit.

Kit was small, underfed and exhausted when Andrew first met him. After the adoption he'd taken full control over the child's nutrition, even taking a course on child diet. Kit was still small for his age, but Neil knew he'd grow up healthy under Andrew's care.

Neil runs a careful finger on the boy's cheek. He's visibly struggling to keep his eyes open. Andrew leans over both of them. The soft look of affection is something that still catches Neil off guard, all these years later.

‘Stay here with Papa and get some sleep,’ he tells Kit.

‘Okay,’ he mumbles, a soft warmth at Neil's side. Neil tucks them both under the comforter. He's feeling the lure of sleep in his bones.

But not yet.

Andrew's about to move off the bed. He's going to freshen up, smoke a cigarette or two, grab some coffee and go to his garden. He won't get back into the house till 10. Neil knows. It's as regular as clockwork.

Neil wraps a hand around Andrew's biceps. Andrew notices the hand and quirks an eyebrow at Neil.

‘Forgetting something?’, Neil murmurs.

Andrew's about to answer,  but looks over at Kit instead. Neil turns and is surprised. Kit isn't asleep yet. A pair of big blue eyes and a mop of red hair is peeking out of the blanket.

Andrew shares a look with Neil, and then leans in to kiss Kit on the forehead. The same procedure is repeated on Neil, and he laughs.

‘Good enough,’ he tells Andrew.

 

The house is blissfully quiet in the next few hours. Neil sleeps well, Kit's comfortable weight draped over his chest.

Andrew joins them sometime later. Neil only wakes long enough to notice him slipping under the covers and throwing a hand over Neil's waist.

‘Go back to sleep,’ he whispers. Neil feels surprised for a second before he's asleep again.

 

The next time he wakes Kit is between them, and he's squirming like an eel.

‘I'm hungry,’ he tells Neil as soon as his eyes are open. Neil smiles and ruffles his hair. Andrew yawns, looking a little disoriented. Neil's surprise is renewed. Andrew isn’t the sort to sleep in. Afternoon naps, sure. But he prefers to be active in the morning hours.

‘You came back to bed. Are you feeling okay?’

Andrew gives him an irritated glare as he gets off the bed and stretches. ‘870%.’ he mutters.

That's as good as a compliment, Neil chuckles to himself and fishes Kit out of the sheets, settling the drowsy child on his hip.  

‘I'll get him cleaned up for the day,’ he promises Andrew. ‘Will you make breakfast?’

Andrew nods, wandering out of the room still looking half asleep.

 

By the time Kit's done with toilet, brushing and changing clothes, they're both famished. Neil takes a deep breath, relishing the scent of coffee. As they enter the kitchen, Kit lets go of his hand and runs to Andrew.

‘Pb&J!’ he squeals. ‘My favorite!’    

Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were the simplest breakfast to make, yet it was Kit's favorite. In the weeks immediately after adoption, it was the only thing he would eat without fussing. Eventually they managed to get him to eat healthier food. Pb&J was now regarded as a reward and comfort food. Even then, the bread was multigrain and both the Strawberry jam and Peanut butter were homemade.        

Kit accepted his sandwich happily, sitting down with the plate and a glass of OJ. Neil reached for the coffee.

‘Just one mug,’ Andrew warned. ‘Otherwise you'll have trouble sleeping.’

Neil hummed around the mouthful of coffee. He ( _them_ ) really had slept unusually long. Add caffeine to that mix and insomnia would wreck both of the adults.He watched as Andrew set down two more plates of pb&j on the table. These were sugarfree. He sat beside Kit, wiping at a smudge of jam on his nose. It all seems surreal to Neil in that second. The kitchen bathed in mid-day sunlight and warmth, the indulgent breakfast, his husband.

 

_Their child._

 

He thinks of the first twenty years of his life. The constant running, constant fear of death. He had not even a little hope of living to be this old.

 

(Neither had Andrew, he knew.)

 

And now look at him, look at them, being happy and shit. Maybe this was his pb&j, the reward after a fuckton of misery.

 

‘Eat your food, Josten.’

 

‘Minyard-Josten.’ Neil reminds him, laughing. But he goes to join them.

 

Andrew rolls his eyes at Neil. And if he holds Neil's hand under the table and rubs over his wedding band, well, that's nobody's business.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on tumblr! I'm Andreil-Minyasten


End file.
